Coping With The Pain
by darkmaji1234
Summary: With his girlfriend dead, Reid's mind spirals into a deep depression and brings him back to his old addictions. Will anyone be able to save him from himself before he does someone he can never come back from? [Contains use of drugs, alcohol and possible other trigger warnings.]


A rush. That was all he wanted as his big brown eyes drooped shut, his right arm shifting to his left arm, a sharp needle penetrating the flesh as he held down the button, allowing the liquid drug to enter his system with anticipation. He laid his head back onto his comfortable couch cushion, his thin body seeming to sink into the back-supporting cushion behind him. He felt relaxed, as if he had done this many times before.

The man had sat there in one place stiffly for ten minutes, his head rolling around as the escatsy had completely taken over, enveloping his brilliant mind in a world of nothing but pleasures. He slowly opened his eyes, his brown orbs scanning around him. He currently sat in a laid-back position on his couch in his living room, wearing a plad house coat, plain white socks shielding his feet from the cold floor. His living room floor was covered in strayed books, each closed, almost strategically placed there for a specific reason. His coffee table was covered in wine glasses, each bearing at least an inch of pure red wine, not a single one completely finished.

Pictures with broken glass were hung slanted on his walls. All other rooms of his apartment had their doors shut as if he wanted none to know what could lie within them.

Suddenly, the man jolted quite roughly as he heard two frantic knocks on his door.

"Reid, are you home?" Another man called through the other side of his front door.

Reid sighed as he slowly rose from his seat on the couch, making sure to stuff the needle nd small bottle of heroine into a drawr on the coffee table, slugging his way over to the door as he slowly unlocked all three locks-as an FBI agent, he needed as much protection as possible- and slowly cracked the door open so that only his face and left side were visible, none of his apartment could be seen. "Yes, Hotch?" Reid replied with a blank tone to his ally, his eyes half open. He could tell from Hotch's worried expression that he looked horrible.

"Reid... Oh god..." Hotch muttered sadly, looking him up and down. "Have you not been taking care of yourself since..." He had no need to finish, knowing Reid's answer would be no.

Two weeks prior to right now, Reid had held a long-distance relationship with a beautiful girl named Maeve Donovan, who had an exceptionally brilliant mind as well as Reid. Maeve had died from a bullet wound to her head during an attempted murder-suicide, dying instantly.

'Of course that was scarring to Reid', Hotch thought, 'he must feel like he's the reason she's dead. I know how he feels.' Hotch sighed as he thought back to his wife, Haley, who had also been killed by someone. Hotch knew exactly how he felt right now. He could have saved Haley if he could have been there on time to help her. But he hadn't seen her die, he had found her body. Reid, on the other hand, had witnessed his girlfriend's death.

Hotch placed his hand against the door frame, his long fingers curling up into it as he frowned. "Reid, may I come in?"

"Hotch, I know what you're going to do. You have a plan to come inside and give me a speech about how I need to let her memory go and how I need to move on from this and be strong, so I'm going to tell you now to stop thinking that will help me." Reid spoke to his companion in a complete monotone, his balance wavering slightly in a noticeable way. Reid could feel his legs shake slightly as he grunted, quickly shifting his weight onto the door frame as well. Hotch moved his hands to the door to further open it, but Reid quickly and firmly held the door to prevent him from opening it.

"Reid, what's wrong? Don't lie to me." He frowned, looking at him with sad eyes.

"Nothing, but just please...leave.." Reid replied, his voice barely above a whisper. 'Too much in the needle this time...Damn.' he thought, beginning to close the door. Hotch could only breathe out the poor man's name before Reid closed the door, not locking it, nearly falling over from the loss of the support. He managed to get to the couch before he collapsed over it, the weight of his torso making his body fall forward, his head colliding with the coffee table, his back hitting hard against his floor, creating a loud thud.

Outside, Hotch had began to walk away as he heard the thud, rushing to the door and swinging it open as his eyes widened at the sight of his fallen friend.

"Reid!" He exclaimed, running to his side and checking for a pulse. Once he found one, a very slow sign of life, he pulled out his small flip phone, calling for an ambulance as he called the rest of their BAU team, telling them to hurry to the hospital.

As the ambulance arrived and took Reid away, Hotch had only then noticed the open drawr of the coffee table, seeing the bottle of dilaudid and a long, sharp needle.

"Not again, Reid.."


End file.
